Brix Johnson is the kind of guy a girl brings home to meet her parents.

The reserved intellect.

The handsome boy next door.

The wealthy yoga instructor.

He’s also the guy haunted by the mysterious woman who gave him the best sex of his life, yet refused to give him her name. With his bombshell no more than a memory, he does what any normal, sexually frustrated man would do ─ he returns to Indulgence.

At Indulgence, a yearly, invitation only, New Year’s Eve erotic masquerade party, Brix can shed his typical persona for one night, and be anyone he wants to be. Lucky for him, the women at Indulgence don’t require conversation. They simply want hardcore sex. But when his past sneaks into his fantasy, can he cope with reality or will he walk away from pure satisfaction?

The crop cracked against my hip. It was so sudden and while I didn’t really feel anything, the sound caused me to jerk against my restraints. “Are you all right?” she asked, sounding sincere.

“Yes, mistress.”

She drifted the crop back down to my crotch. “Now, I will not inflict any pain here.” She swirled the tip of the crop around my penis. “But that doesn’t mean I won’t tease.”

Another crack against my thigh and I damn near bounced out of my skin. The posters of the bed jerked at my reaction, but I remained unmoved. Back and forth the crop kissed my skin. My thighs burned yet my cock grew harder. I winced at the sting yet ached with need. Her strikes weren’t hard at all. Nothing like I’d seen in porn or read about in books. No, she was being gentle. Gearing me up. And it was working.

Just when I thought I might not be able to handle much more, she landed one final blow to my thigh and then rubbed the crop along the burn. “Not even a shout or a hiss. I’m proud of you. You’re a natural.”

My chest inflated with pride. I hadn’t even realized I’d held my tongue.

Cedar returned the crop to the drawer and moved to the bed where she straddled my hips. “What is it that you want?” she demanded. “Be clear and frank with me.”

I lay there, unable to move, feeling her hot pussy against my stomach and all I could think of was,

“I want you to own me.”

Jeanne McDonald is an author, a mother, a wife, a student of knowledge and of life, a coffee addict, a philosophy novice, a pop culture connoisseur, inspired by music, encouraged by words, and a believer in true love. When she’s not spending time with her family, she can be found reading, writing, enjoying a great film, chatting with friends or diligently working toward her bachelor’s degree in literature. A proud Texan, Jeanne currently resides in the Dallas/Fort Worth area with her family.